Passion Over Mist
by Mikki february9
Summary: After the events of Eternal Summer Makoto and Haruka are living together, but their relationship is somewhat uncertain. Makoto finds himself baffled by Haruka's subtle advances. MakoHaru. Shower scenario. Fluff and smut. (One-shot)


**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Please don't sue! Thank you! :)**

This is my first MakoHaru fic, and Free fic in general. Please be kind when it comes to any possible OOCness. I know the shower scenario is played out, but I couldn't help it!

This was my first attempt writing a fic in first person present. I usually write in third person past or first person past, but this story just felt right in FPP. I liked the immediacy of it all.

Also, I have no idea how these two, being college students from families of assumably average income, would be able to afford living in an apartment big enough for two in Tokyo (which is expensive), but let's ignore the logistics! On to the fluff and smut!

Makoto's POV

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 **Passion Over Mist**

Haru knocks on the foggy shower glass. I know it means he's running late for afternoon practice again and wants to join me in the shower. We had established a regular routine in our two weeks of living together. I'd wake Haru from his late morning slumber before preparing to leave for my nutrition class. I'd hop into the shower and by the time I'd finish, Haru would be gone. But for the past two days, it's been as current. Haru knocks. I let him in. And suddenly we're showering together.

I've tried convincing myself this is something I shouldn't be weirded out by. As kids we were inseparable to the point of showering and bathing together when we had sleepovers, but we stopped sometime before middle school. And showering in locker rooms hardly counts. So why now when we're in college?

I know Haru better than anyone. I can read his thoughts by a simple glance, but our current situation has me baffled. His excuse of being late for practice and wanting to shower simply doesn't fly. If he's pressed for time, the sensible thing to do is leave without showering. And if he wants to wash up, he can use the bathtub. It's his preferred method after all.

He must have another objective. Maybe he's trying to tell me something—something about his feelings for me, something about us? No. That's wishful thinking on my part. Haru doesn't know that I've grown to love him over the past few years. We've been close friends our entire lives, and I have no intention of changing that. Or rather, I _had_ no intention. Our newly established shower time is threatening that mentality, forcing me to acknowledge how thin my resolves are in face of the passion I have for him. I could clear the confusion by asking Haru why he's doing this. But I haven't argued or refused his actions. I let him do what he wants.

He steps into the mist with his back turned to me, our bodies inches apart in this shower made for one. The jetting water forms to the peaks of his toned muscles—little rivers streaming down his back, meeting at the crevice of his ass. I want my fingers to follow their lead.

"No, dammit!" I pull away my reaching hand.

"Do you want me out?" he turns partially towards me.

I grab his shoulder instinctively. "No."

To my surprise, he steps back and leans against me, allowing his warmth over my heart. My nose touches his damp ebony hair, further arousing my thoughts. If only my lips could greet his neck, travel his chest. As much as I want to hold back, my body tempts me. I can't confess. I'm not ready. But he's made himself vulnerable.

His name chimes from my lips as I wrap my arms loosely around his torso, "Haru, I…" my voice trembles, floating away from me. "I…"

"It's okay," he places his hand over mine, making me shudder. "I know."

"You know?" I say slowly, chaining my disbelief.

He nods and keeps his head inclined, letting his bangs cascade his features. "Whatever you want to do, I'm fine with it."

His declaration pours away my lovelorn stress, replacing it with nervous delight. It's like I'm weightless. He turns in my embrace and hooks his arms around my neck, his face still obscured. I brush aside his hair from his eyes to see them gleaming more than usual, crystal blue amid his rosy complexion. I caress the side of his face, my other hand rubbing the small of his back. We stand silent under the jetting water, our faces inching closer until our lips meet in a feathery kiss. Wanting words of confirmation, I think to ask Haru his feelings for me. But the fact that he's here, embracing me, and touching me, tells me more than a verbal response ever could.

I whisper once complex words that now feel effortless, "I love you, Haru."

His arms hug tighter, his head tilted, pulling me close enough for our lips to lock fully. His lips press further and I reciprocate. The tip of my tongue laps the front of his teeth and briefly meets his own. I know it's bold, but it feels pure. We draw in each other's breath, as though in contest to see who will pull back first. We let go almost simultaneously, our lips still grazing as we breathe in. Haru brings his arms to my waist and rests his head on my chest. I kiss his hair, resting my chin over his head as I gather our situation.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask him, though the question is for myself.

"You can't tell?" Haru steps back, averting his eyes. "If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be doing this."

As happy as his words should make me, I can't savor them. I'm thrown off kilter by how fast things are changing between us. After so many years of friendship we're crossing an uncertain threshold, putting our dynamic, our relationship at risk. If we can't make it as lovers, what will happen then? What if we both come to regret it?

"I'm afraid," my sight falls to the shower floor.

"Why?"

"Because, if we continue I won't be able to control myself..."

The jetting water weakens, leaving with it the unnerving squeak of the turning knob. For what feels like minutes, an awkward tension claims the air between us. I clench a fist at my indecision, my wordlessness...my slow emerging tears.

"You're worried about us getting closer."

The statement triggers me to look up, and I see Haru turned to me, his gaze striking me.

"It's been affecting my practice," Haru sighs. "I can't live free if I hide my feelings. So, you can't hide yours either. We've been together for the longest time, and I want it to stay that way. But if we ignore this part of ourselves, that won't be possible."

He's right. Repressing our feelings will only make our relationship awkward. I've probably known this for a while now but didn't have the courage to see it that way. I never thought Haru would return my feelings, so I chose not to trouble him with them. But now that he's shown me his affection, his desire, I can move forward with some amount of courage.

"Haru," my lips expand into what must be a goofy grin. I take him in my arms and weep onto his shoulder, my tears of frustration now those of joy.

As I pull back he greets me with a reassuring nod and his face illuminates with a precious smile. I ease my lips to his as he snakes his arms around my neck again. The kiss starts harder and deeper than the first. I find myself nibbling his lower lip, pressing him against the tiled wall. My hand runs under his thigh, guiding his leg over my waist. My tongue swirls around his, and he sighs against my motions. My blood rushes and I start to harden against him, imagining where my palms will explore next, how my teeth will graze his skin, the rhythm I will set.

"Let's move," he says in a pitched tone.

"To the bath?" I suggest, thinking it'll be more comfortable for him.

"The bed."

I kiss him quickly, chuckling at his sensible answer.

— — —

We descend onto Haru's bed, our moist bodies meeting the comforter. I reclaim his lips, letting my hand wander over his buttocks, beneath his thighs, over his crotch. His legs splay, wrapping loosely around me while I press my center to his, leaving a path of kisses along the front of his neck to his collarbone. I trace circles on his stiffened nipple, as he clutches the sheets and turns his cheek against the pillow—eyes shut, body glowing. I lap my tongue over his other nipple, losing myself in the delicate rise and fall of his chest, and the sound of his aggressive pulse that mirrors mine.

His back arches, and his erection rubs under mine, leaving them pulsating against each other. My mouth travels to Haru's other nipple, repeating previous motions before continuing downward, kissing the peaks and valleys of his abs, the dip of his belly button, and to his swollen tip. I take his length in my hand, running my tongue from the base to the tip again.

"Makoto," he fists my hair, "stop."

I freeze and pull back instantly. "You...you don't like it?" I say unable to hide the disappointment and embarrassment in my voice. Sitting up, I place my hands on my knees, feeling like a child on punishment.

"You're leaking."

"What?" I look down to the sight of pre-cum emerging from my tip. How did he notice this?

"Let me do you," Haru suggests. But I'm too mortified to consider it.

I crawl to the other side of the bed and claim Haru's dolphin plush toy and bury my head in a pillow, unsure of how to continue after making such a fool of myself.

"What's wrong now?" Haru sighs.

"It's your first time," I turn towards him with reluctance. "I want to make it perfect." As corny and idiotic as it sounds, it's true.

"It's your first time too."

"Um…well…yeah." It _is_ my first time. Yet, I've been touching Haru like I have experience beyond the online research I've done. How can I be so arrogant?!

"Stop worrying about my feelings," Haru pushes me gently onto my back and pries the dolphin from my grasp. "I'm giving you permission to be selfish."

"Permission?"

Haru hovers over me and settles on my upper thighs, "I can't take it much longer. And you're worse off than me." He leans in, placing his hands at each side of me on the mattress for support.

He draws me in again with his beautiful glittering stare. I prop myself up by the arms and kiss his lips. I allow my hands to cup his behind, my fingers to move towards his entrance. He lifts on his knees to give me better access, but the friction against my digits remind me that we're missing a few necessities.

Apprehension creeps back into me, "Um. Haru, we don't have any—"

"Check the other pillow," he murmurs. I reach under the pillow Haru previously laid on, and sure enough there's a bottle of lubricant and a pack of condoms. Did he plan this?

We apply the condoms, and I continue massaging his hot entrance, patiently easing my lubed index in and out before entering another. Haru moans, letting me know I've found his sweet spot. He lowers himself to me, steadily swallowing my tip until he absorbs me fully, hot and tight around my thumping erection.

We move and his breath quickens, breaking every so often into delicate captivating cries. With each sway he makes, with every upwards thrust I comply him with, I'm shocked with an unbelievable wave of strength at my center, like all the anxious, frantic, and overwhelming energies associated with love have harmonized in our delirious connection. But despite such heightened sensation, the slapping of our bodies, the squelch of our wet contact, and the creaking frame, remind me of the physical act.

I hold onto his hips and shift our weight, guiding Haru onto the mattress. He latches onto me, breathing my name. My digits press against the plump flesh of his behind. I plunge and pull out, repeating over and over with more fervor than the last. I moan with tightened lips, convulsing inside him as I find release. With Haru's orgasm just beginning to emerge from the tip, I continue our contact, hitting his pleasure point, nibbling his ear, teasing his nipples, until he peaks, letting out a stunning airy cry.

I embrace him as I descend to the bed, careful not to collapse over him. We lay panting as we try not to drift to sleep. I roll onto my back, and Haru rests his head beside mine, tickling my neck with his breath.

"Now we're both going to be late," I say playfully.

He smiles, "It was good."

My face warms, and I know I'm blushing from his comment. I brush his bangs aside, leaving him a kiss on the forehead. "Better than a waterfall?" I joke, but a part of me sincerely hopes Haru thinks it is.

"No comment," he replies plainly as he sits up and throws his legs over the edge of the bed and heads for the bathroom.

"Figures," I sigh, propping my head up. Haru's first love is water after all.

He returns, drying his hair with a towel draping from his neck and tosses an extra one my way. He turns to the drawer directly opposite from us where he slips on his jammer and dons sweatpants over them. I can hardly see his features against the daylight fighting its way through the white curtains in front of him.

He comes back, kneeling at the bedside with a folded shirt in his hand. He gazes at me and lets out a rare chuckle as he reaches over to kiss me. "Get ready for class," he stands and slips on his shirt.

"I will," I sit up, taking his hand. "Be safe, Haru-chan."

To my surprise, he doesn't reprimand me for calling him "chan." His smile simply widens and he squeezes my hand. We share a gaze and another kiss before he leaves. I remain on his bed for a few minutes more, hugging his dolphin and reflecting on our amazing progress. We definitely have an interesting college life ahead of us.

 _End_

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Thanks for reading!

 ***Update Dec/2015:** I made a quick edit to the details of Haru and Makoto's history. In my original post, I suggested Haru and Makoto knew each other since kindergarten (I wasn't too sure about that to begin with). For some reason, I missed the idea that they'd met as babies! Shame on me! Anyway, I made changes accordingly.


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